


Simple Pleasures

by Severina



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Community: lands_of_magic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5801680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle awakens the morning after the Dark Curse is lifted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> Post Season One. Written for LJ's lands_of_magic community for the challenge "I learned something today"
> 
> * * *

The thin trickle of sunlight peeking through a gap in the curtains woke her.

For a moment Belle lay disoriented, confused by the soft pallet and the overwarm blanket. She blinked up at the ceiling, searching for the meandering crack in the concrete; listening for the drip of the broken pipe in the wall. She saw only thick cream coloured paint; heard only the faint chirping of birds awakening to a new day. Slowly the memories came back – of the man who appeared suddenly in her tiny cell and freed her, of the long bewildering walk through streets crammed with strange conveyances and blinking lights, of the dark little shop with its crowded shelves of bric a brac and shining crystal. 

Of Rumplestiltskin, who held her and kissed her and _loved_ her.

His arm lay over her stomach now, heavy and proprietary.

He had taken her to his home. Not the Dark Castle; not here, in this peculiar world of magicless magic, where lights flickered on with merely a touch to a switch and hot water appeared from the faucet without need of boiling over a hearth fire. But similar to the Dark Castle regardless, with its many rooms packed with knick-knacks and books and other objects that glimmered in her memory, their old placement in the castle just out of reach.

He had cooked her a simple meal of meat and cheese that she had devoured without any self-consciousness, eschewing utensils to rip the chicken straight from the bone, so great was her hunger. And then he had drawn her a bath filled with scented oils and left her to soak. And when she had emerged wrapped in his robe and taken his hand, he had…

Belle smiled privately, snuggled safe and warm beneath the covers. 

She had an idea of the simple mechanics, of course. And she knew that she wanted him in that way; had known since the curse lifted and her memories came flooding back in a rush and her lips finally met his again and she determined that they had wasted too much time apart and nothing would separate them again. But nothing had prepared her for the sensory overload – she had no idea that Rumple's thumb rubbing gently at the crease of her thigh would make her body tremble, or that the tickle of his hair against her breast would cause her heart to pound and a fine sheen of sweat to break out over her body. It had been impossible to stay still or silent when he touched her.

Just the thought of it now made her breathing shallow and something low in her body twist and curl in anticipation. 

Belle slid her gaze to the man next to her. Rumple still slept, his long, fine hair falling over his cheek. So different from the curls that he'd sported in the Enchanted Forest. But she liked the way the strands slipped through her fingers when she had clutched his head as he tilted toward her breast, as he took her nipple into his mouth and—

She forced herself to stop, blinked away the memory. Rumple _slept_! The signs of exhaustion were clear in his slack expression, the dead-weight of his limbs, and while a part of her gloried that she had played some part in wearing him out she knew that he also must have been working ceaselessly to free Storybrooke of the Queen's evil curse. He needed to rest, not to be pawed by some overeager girl who had only just discovered the joy that came when a man and woman loved each other. 

Belle lifted her arms carefully from beneath the covers, slid cautiously out from beneath Rumple's prone arm. He shifted just a little when she rose; enough to let the blanket slip unheeded to his waist. Belle let herself admire his lean form for a moment, remembering the press of his chest against hers, her palms curling over his shoulder blades as his slim hips flexed. It was more difficult than she thought to step away from the bed, but she was resolute. Rumplestiltskin needed sleep. And sustenance. 

She could help with both.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin rolled over with a groan. The morning sunlight stabbed through his closed eyelids and he winced to think that he'd be late opening the shop, not that it mattered since the savior was taking her sweet time to—

His eyes snapped open, the previous day's events flooding back in a rush. Malificent, the savior, the well… and Belle. His Belle, safe and alive and—

Tears of relief pricked his eyes as he reached out a trembling hand. The sheets were still warm from her body; the scent of her – of _them_ \-- still lingered in the air. It wasn't a break in his mind or an elaborate game or one of Regina's parlour tricks. Belle was here, with him, and she loved him, and he had won. He had _won_.

He had the woman _and_ his power. And soon he would have his son.

Rumplestiltskin sat up in bed, shook the hair out of his eyes. The power was here, yes – he could feel magic in the air in the same way that others could sense a coming rainfall – but could it be bent to his will? Was the power of the Dark One the same in the former Land Without Magic? He stood quickly, twisted his hand and smiled to find himself clad in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a thick robe. One less thing to worry about, then. Now he only need discover what exactly he had set in motion by freeing the town and bringing magic to the land.

He took up his cane and made his way carefully down the stairs, his nose prickling the closer he came to the kitchen. He could feel Belle there, a buoy bouncing at the end of a rope that grew more taut with each step, and his fingers tingled with the want of touching her, of pressing her close and burying his hands in her hair and having her; seeing her blue eyes darken and her full lips part; hearing his name gasped out on a shaking breath. He made himself slow, paused outside the archway and controlled his breathing lest he frighten the poor girl. 

Then he walked through the doorway and into chaos.

"Rumple!" Belle said warmly before a tiny frown creased her brow. "You're up. I was going to bring this upstairs to surprise you."

She looked… ravishing, her long hair still a mess from where it had tangled on the pillow, her curves hidden beneath the oversized robe she'd clearly taken from his closet. He tried to focus on the warmth in her bright blue eyes and not the pall of smoke that still hovered in the air despite the open window, nor the scorch mark that marred the once pristine surface of his stove.

His gaze followed her arm to where she gestured at the table, and the plate and glass already set out on a tray to be carried upstairs. The orange juice was unmistakable, and the runny glob of white and yellow on the plate could only be eggs. He was at a loss as to the components of the rest of the meal.

"I'm sorry," Belle apologized. "The bacon's a little… crispy."

Rumplestiltskin stared down at the curled and blackened husks on the plate. So _that's_ what that was. He smiled up at Belle encouragingly. "They're simply well done," he pronounced. "Just the way I like them."

Belle snorted. "I'll do better next time," she promised. "Your heating box is a lot more difficult to work with than a simple pan over a fire."

He laughed then, leaving the disastrous meal where it sat and moving to take her in his arms. _This_ was what he needed, had needed since he awoke alone in the bed. Thankfully she moved willingly into his embrace, her own arms coming up to wrap snugly around his waist without hesitation, and the lingering fear that he'd had but refused to acknowledge – that she may have awakened to regret their assignation – disappeared when she tilted her face up to his and returned his smile with an impish grin of her own.

"'I'm sure you will master the oven," he said, "as you master all the things you put your hand to."

"Including you?" Belle asked, swaying in his arms.

"Most especially me," he answered. He could not have wiped the smile from his face had Hades himself appeared in the kitchen and demanded it, and realized with a start that he felt truly happy in a way that he had not since – he cast his mind back, and back. In a way that he had not since he stood at a tower window and saw a beautiful girl with a basket full of straw actually returning to his castle. Returning to him. "And until then," he continued, raising one arm in a flourish, "a feast for my love!"

Belle's fingers closed around his before he could call forth the delicacies he saw in his minds eyes, curling around his hand and keeping his magic at bay. Her teeth bit daintily at her bottom lip, and she stared silently at the gap where his robe had slipped to expose a sliver of his chest before she raised her eyes and watched him from beneath lowered lashes. 

"I'm not very hungry," she said.

Her voice, husky with need, made his heart race; the hand that had been raised to conjure a feast returned instead to sweep a stray lock of hair from her cheek. His own voice, speaking her name, could barely rise above a murmur. It seemed that time stopped, or held itself in a delicate balance as they stood poised on the brink, holding each other up in a tiny kitchen. His eyes searched her face for a hint of how to proceed.

And then Belle's hand slipped inside his robe. Her palm skimmed across his ribs, making him shudder involuntarily, before sloping downward to press against his stomach. And happy did not begin to describe the feeling that he had – to know that she both loved and wanted him; ached for him with the same need that threatened to overwhelm him.

He could not wait. He called upon his magic to take them from kitchen to bedroom, still somewhat stunned by the presumptuousness of the act. But then Belle giggled even as she blushed prettily to find herself naked in his arms. Her lush body was beneath him, his to stroke and kiss and lick, and he intended to do just that – to bring her to her peak again and again until he finally allowed himself to sink into her and seek his own release. 

Food was inconsequential. Discovering the consequences of banishing the dark curse could wait. Right now, Belle was all he needed. And he intended to savour her.


End file.
